Fighter
by rayrae118
Summary: Something of a follow up to my other NCIS LA oneshots, but it could stand alone. A conversation between team mates takes a distressing turn; a defining moment and a deepening understanding between Callen and Deeks.


**This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. It's another follow up to **_**The Thing About The Past, **_**and**_** There Will Be A Dawn**_**, though it could stand alone, just like the others. Some things might not make sense, but you can get around it, if you really don't want to read the other stories first. A conversation between the team takes a depressing turn, a defining moment, and a deepening understanding between Callen and Deeks.**

Deeks wasn't quite sure how it had happened. One moment they had been talking about strange cases they had worked in the past, relaxing and unwinding after a rather hellish week, and Deeks had been regaling them with some of the crazies he had met while working with the LAPD. The next…

Somehow, the conversation had turned to the first time any of them had fired a gun. Kensi had launched on a rather heartwarming story about her first trip to the range with her father, before Sam cut in with his SEAL training, and how he had to shoot at a target continuously for hours until he was able to hit the bulls eye every time.

Even Nell chimed in, talking about how an ex boyfriend had shown her how to shoot, wanting her to be able to protect herself. Eric hadn't had any experience, but he did go off on a rather interesting tangent about a paintball tournament.

They were all laughing and talking so much that none of them noticed the silence of two of their number.

Deeks couldn't stop replaying that defining moment in his childhood. He truly believed that it had been his only option at the time, but what eleven year old is actually all right with shooting their father, even if it was a nonfatal wound?

In truth, the part that Deeks really had trouble with was that he regretted the fact that the wound had been nonfatal. What kind of person did that make him? He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he too failed to notice the lack of participation from their senior agent.

Callen also wasn't saying much. He was content more to observe the gathering than participate himself. It wasn't that he didn't have stories about his first few times firing a weapon, he just wasn't that comfortable sharing. It was nothing embarrassing, or particularly _bad_, but even after years of working with these people, he still clung to his lone wolf tendencies. Sam was starting to force his way in, but the others were still outsiders.

After Eric finished his paintball story, amidst the laughter, Deeks saw Kensi start to turn towards him, so he pulled out his phone, faking a call. With a shrug and an apologetic glance, he got up from the couch and headed deeper into the building.

The rest of the group shared a look, several of them only just now remembering what they had learned about Deeks and his father.

Smoothing over the somewhat awkward moment, Kensi started telling the team about an incident early in her career, with the others chiming in here and there. Callen put in a few of his own remarks, only half listening. He waited a few minutes, before he picked up his empty beer bottle and stood up, making his way across the room. Since they were officially off shift, Hetty would look the other way to their drinking in the office.

He set the bottle down on his desk, and looked back at the group. Kensi was still talking, and Sam, Nell, and Eric were seemingly engrossed in the story, so Callen picked up two unopened beer bottles from their spot next to the coffee maker, and quickly and quietly made his way down the same hallway Deeks had disappeared to a few minutes earlier.

He found the LAPD liaison in the gym. Deeks was sitting on the floor in the center of the mat, knees bent and arms circled around his legs. He was staring at the climbing wall, but Callen wasn't sure he was actually seeing the wall in front of him.

The senior agent stayed in the doorway for another minute, watching, before he moved over to join the detective, sitting down close enough to be friendly, but not close enough to crowd.

Deeks looked over, surprised. It wasn't that he had any issues with Callen, but the two weren't exactly close. They worked together, and they were civil, but they weren't the type to grab beers together after work, or spend days off together.

Callen wasn't quite sure why he had decided to follow the detective. Call it a gut instinct; and he had learned to trust those. He didn't say anything, simply handed Deeks one of the beers and then proceeded to uncap his own, taking a deep swig before setting the bottle down on the floor.

Deeks sipped from his own bottle, still trying to figure out why Callen had joined him.

After almost five minutes of silence, Callen finally spoke. "You know, the first time I fired a gun, I was fifteen." Deeks jerked a little, observing the senior agent out of the corner of his eye. "I was living in South Central."

Deeks nodded, understanding just a little of what Callen wasn't saying, as any native to LA would. South Central encompassed a portion of South LA, and wasn't the greatest of neighborhoods, more controlled by gangs then honest, hard working middle class people.

Callen shrugged, not looking at the detective as he continued, "Surrounded by gangs, it was sort of hard not to get to know any of them. I never actually joined up, but I became friendly with a few members." Callen looked down at the floor, his eyes growing wistful as his voice hardened slightly; it was more emotion than Deeks was used to seeing from the senior agent, and he turned his head further, to actually look at the older man full on, rather than observe from his peripheral vision as he had been.

"There was this one guy, Manuel, who took a liking to me. He lived nearby, and was a member of the Crips, but pretty decent, and not much older than me." Callen swallowed hard, and the coughed, clearing his throat. "He never tried to recruit me, or anything, but he saw my foster father getting rough one night, and just offered me a place to spend the daylight hours, so that I didn't have to spend any more time in that house than necessary."

Deeks blinked, hearing the words fly so easily from the agent's mouth, like it wasn't a big deal to get knocked around at fifteen. But then again, to him, and to Deeks, it wasn't. It just happened. It was life. Maybe Sam, or Kensi, or Eric, or Nell would think it was strange, or sad, but him and Callen, they didn't see anything wrong with it.

Maybe that's why Callen was telling him.

Callen glanced over at Deeks, and felt a wry grin threaten to break free as he could see the threads of thought across the detective's face. He knew it would bother his partner, to hear the abuse spoken about so freely, but he also knew that Deeks' past was not so different from his own, and the shaggy-haired man would understand.

The senior agent shrugged with one shoulder. "Manuel showed me how to hold a gun, and how to shoot. He gave me a spare that I kept hidden in the front yard, just in case. I don't know what scared me more, the idea of having a gun, or actually thinking I might have to use it."

Deeks nodded, understanding. He could comprehend the dilemma. "Did you…?"

He couldn't quite form the question, but Callen shook his head readily, knowing what the detective was asking.

"I ran away before it got that bad," he admitted. "Police picked me up on the streets a couple months later, and social services put me in another foster home. No one even asked why I had run away in the first place." There was disgust in Callen's voice, repulsion in the man who had been so horrible that he had felt there was no choice but to leave, anger in a system that had failed… sadness, for the way things had turned out.

Deeks listened, his mind analyzing this conversation from every angle. It really didn't take much for him to figure out why Callen was telling him this. With the way the conversation with the team had gone, it would make sense that Deeks would bail. And though he didn't really think about it, the truth was, he and Callen shared a very similar past. Both knew what it was like to be used and abused.

Callen fell silent, waiting for Deeks to make the next move. He had shared, opened up, just like Hetty and Sam kept trying to get him to do. The ball was in Deeks' court now.

It was another few minutes before the detective spoke, his voice quiet and contemplative. "I want to be over it." Callen didn't interrupt, shifting his body slightly so that he was facing more towards his younger coworker. Deeks bit his lip, looking down as he leaned back, using his hands to prop him up on the floor. "I mean, I was eleven. It was so long ago, and he went to jail. I haven't even seen him since I was a teenager." Deeks was dangerously close to breaking down. "I just feel…"

He trailed off, trying to put into words what he really couldn't say. Not many understood the anger, the hurt, the raw emotion that he felt.

Except Callen. "You feel like a rug's been swept out from under you," the senior agent elaborated, his own voice becoming detached, describing something he hadn't felt in a very long time, the memories coming back to the forefront of his mind and playing, over and over again, despite his best efforts. Deeks, watching him, could see that the senior agent was slipping into the past. "Like the world keeps spinning, faster and faster, and nothing you do will stop it. Like everyone can see you spiraling out of control. You feel empty, hollow, worthless. Like nothing you do matters. It doesn't matter how many bad guys you arrest, how many people you help, you still can't get rid of that voice in the back of your head that tells you, you mean nothing."

Deeks found himself nodding, almost shocked, at the way Callen was able to sum up everything he felt. Almost without even realizing what he was doing, he found himself responding. "I just wanted him to shut up. For eleven years, all I had heard was how much of a freak I was, how I would never amount to anything. I was tired of feeling worthless, I was tired of hurting. Physically and emotionally. I didn't really mean to shoot him at the time, but afterwards…"

Once more, Deeks trailed off, and Callen knew exactly what the younger man was trying to say. "You regretted that it didn't actually kill him."

Deeks sucked in a breath. He let it out slowly, before responding. "He was an ass. I never wanted to be in that position, but I didn't think I had a choice. In that moment, that night…"

"It was you or him."

Deeks nodded grimly, and Callen sighed. "I get it, Marty, I really do."

The LA detective shook his head stubbornly. "You didn't shoot your foster dad, Callen."

The agent shrugged offhandedly. "I know what it's like to want to."

That statement hung in the air for almost a whole minute, both law enforcement officials contemplating the implications.

Callen actually couldn't believe he had admitted it, out loud. For the first time, he had actually told someone one of his darkest secrets. While Deeks was right, in that he had never actually shot any of his 'loving caregivers', he had definitely fantasized about it a few times. Like with Dekkar, or Trey Paulin, the guy he had lived with in South Central, the whole story that had begun this conversation. It was amazing, how truly disgusting some people were. And yet the government still saw fit to place kids with them. Callen was just one of the many who had slipped through the cracks.

Deeks bit his lip as he digested everything he had just learned. It was nice to know that he could relate to someone else, that there was someone in his life that actually understood him. He loved working with NCIS, but even after several years of working as the LAPD liaison, he still felt somewhat like an outsider; Sam and Kensi were more likely to make a joke then get serious with him. Usually, he would feel that way about Callen as well, but something had changed this afternoon. For some reason, the senior agent was opening up to him, sharing things that Deeks was fairly certain had been buried for far longer than was healthy.

Then again, who was he to judge; it wasn't like he ever told people about his father. He hadn't even wanted to tell his colleagues, and wouldn't have, had the situation not demanded it. As it was, he was glad that none of his colleagues had made a big deal out of it.

Deeks coughed lightly, clearing his throat. "You remember the Casey case?"

Callen raised an eyebrow. Of course he remembered that case. He mostly remembered the afternoon he had spent with the victim's son, and the woman who had found the kid hiding in the park. The woman he had first met at the age of fourteen. The woman he had once thought of as a sister. The girl he had protected from an abusive asshole of a foster father.

Of course, he couldn't really say all that out loud, so he just nodded.

Deeks looked down, embarrassed. "When you and that woman, Karen, had that conversation… um, well…" He wasn't quite sure how to say it. After hearing everything he had heard, he felt guilty for eavesdropping, and he wanted to apologize.

"You guys were listening," Callen finished, not looking surprised.

Deeks' head shot up, and he met the senior agent's gaze. His own was startled.

Callen shrugged. "Sam told me," he said by way of explanation. Deeks looked rueful now. Callen smirked slightly. "I was a little annoyed when he told me, but honestly, it really doesn't matter that much to me any more. Neither you nor Kensi has treated me any differently, and honestly, it was a long time ago. I learned pretty early on that you have to let go of the little things if you want to be able to live."

Deeks nodded slightly. "I am sorry, for listening in," he said quietly. "But I'm not really sorry for hearing it, if that makes any sense." Callen quirked an eyebrow, and Deeks chuckled a little. "You're kind of an enigma, you know. When I first met you, you terrified me." Callen laughed, and Deeks' smile widened slightly. "We've worked together for several years now, but I barely know you. So I guess, hearing something about you, learning something… what I told Sam was true, it really doesn't matter to me, whatever happened back then."

Callen looked down, picking up the beer bottle and draining it in one gulp, before he set it back down. He didn't meet Deeks' suddenly worried gaze, as he spoke. "I'm not really sure if I'm supposed to say thank you or something here," he commented wryly. Deeks shrugged. He wasn't really sure, either. Callen sighed. "It's no secret that I don't do trust. I learned early on that if you let someone in, they'll just disappoint you. So I stopped. Sam's been trying to cure me of that habit, and I think it might actually be working." He snorted lightly. "A few months ago, I probably never would have even thought of following you here, and having… whatever it is we're having."

Deeks laughed, and after a moment, Callen did as well.

It took almost a minute for them to stop, a hint of hysteria creeping into their humor indicating just how raw both of them felt.

Callen coughed, clearing his throat. "Marty, I know I'm probably the last person you should believe, but whatever else we are, we're family. This team, we work because we lean on each other, we trust each other. We have to. Even if it doesn't look like it, I do trust all of you. Maybe I just need to work on showing it."

Deeks nodded. "For what it's worth, I do trust you guys," he said, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "It's just… my past isn't something I really like to think about, you know?"

Callen nodded now. Of course he knew.

Deeks grunted, biting his lip. "Usually I don't think about it. Today just kind of caught me off guard."

Callen waited, and after a moment, Deeks continued, looking up and meeting the senior agent's gaze head on. "Thank you." Callen furrowed his brow, and Deeks elaborated. "For coming after me. We don't talk a lot, and I guess I never really realized how much we have in common." He paused again, before his gaze once more moved to his feet, and he spoke once more. "I know I crack a lot of jokes, and you think I'm pretty annoying, but it means a lot that you cared enough to have this conversation with me."

Callen shook his head, leaning forward slightly, shifting his body closer to Deeks. "You're not annoying," he argued. Deeks snorted, but didn't look up. Callen smiled a little. "OK, so you have a few moments, but really, Deeks, you're like… the lovable younger brother. We clash, and fight, we make fun of each other, and don't always get along, but at the end of the day, we're family, and we take care of each other; we look after each other."

There was one thing Callen wasn't saying, but Deeks understood. Callen wasn't a touchy feely person, and with everything he had been through growing up, actually using the word _love_ just wasn't something he was capable of.

Neither man said anything more for another few minutes, as Deeks finished his beer, grateful for the distraction.

Callen checked his watch, before he made to stand up, Deeks following.

"If I don't get back, Sam's likely to leave without me," he commented wryly. Deeks chuckled, and Callen let out a half laugh before getting serious. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here. Just an invitation."

Deeks nodded, biting his lip. "Thanks," he said quietly. He didn't know if he would take the lead agent up on the offer, but he thought he might. It was nice to know that he had the option.

The two agents made their way back to the bullpen, separating to their respective desks to get their things before leaving.

Sam and Kensi were both still there, but thankfully, neither one said anything when the other half of their team came into view.

"You ready?"

Callen looked up at Sam's query, and nodded. "Thanks for the ride," he replied.

"Yeah, yeah. When's your car going to be ready?" Sam asked, pointedly ignoring any tension that permeated the room with Callen and Deeks' return, going for normalcy.

Callen smirked. "I'll let you know as soon as I do," he responded. It was getting annoying, not having a ride, but considering the car had been pretty much totaled on their last case, the mechanic probably had a lot of work to do.

Callen closed the drawer holding his keys and looked up, his eyes catching with Deeks' steady gaze. In that moment, and understanding passed between the pair. Callen nodded slightly, a gesture that Deeks returned austerely, a hint of a smile making its way across his face.

Callen and Sam left, throwing out goodbyes to the others. Eric and Nell had disappeared back into the Ops center, so it was just Kensi and Deeks alone in the bullpen.

"Everything good?"

Deeks looked up, meeting his partner's semi-concerned gaze. He smiled widely, automatically going for evasive. "Great."

Kensi raised an eyebrow. "Did Callen find you?"

Deeks answered with a question of his own. "Why?"

Kensi leaned against her desk, folding her arms across her chest furrowing her brow. "Deeks, I'm your partner. You think I don't know what that fake call was about?" Deeks didn't say anything, and Kensi sighed, slumping slightly. "You don't have to talk to me, Deeks. Just please, look me in the eye and honestly tell me if you're all right."

Deeks glanced over to the exit, where Callen and Sam had disappeared to a few minutes earlier, and his gaze softened slightly. The lines around his eyes smoothed out, and his expression relaxed. He turned back to Kensi. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice soft but calm.

There was a hint of certainty behind it that reassured the female agent, and she just nodded in response, watching as her partner headed towards the exit.

Walking out, Deeks knew that what he had told Kensi was the truth. He had spent so many years running from the past, hiding that part of himself. But talking with Callen that afternoon had shown him that he didn't have to be afraid of it anymore.

Callen had made an effort to connect with Deeks, and he really appreciated it. Maybe it was time to stop skirting around it; the senior agent was right: they were family. Dysfunctional, crazy, but family nonetheless. And if you couldn't lean on family, who could you lean on?

Deeks nodded to himself as he opened the door to his car. He paused, and looked back at the building he called an office, a home away from home.

He smiled slightly, before getting into the car and closing the door.

Yeah, it felt good to have a family.

_My whole knowledge of gangs in LA comes from google, so I apologize if I got anything wrong. I've never even been to LA, so it really was just the minimal amount of research I did while writing._

_I hope you like! Please review and let me know what you think!_


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